[horror story] The Princes in the Tower disappeared and a guard saw them

I wasn't going to post this but I need to get it out.

Okay so first, some context. The Tower of London is genuinely one of the bloodiest places in British history. During the day it's packed with tourists taking selfies next to the Crown Jewels. At night though. AT NIGHT. Something shifts.

Back in 1483, two boys were locked inside. Edward V, who was supposed to be king, and his little brother Richard, Duke of York. Their uncle, Richard III, threw them in the Bloody Tower and then they just... vanished. No bodies ever found. No official record of what happened. Just gone. And historians have been losing their minds over it for 500 years.

My name is Mark. I've been a night security guard at the Tower of London for over ten years. And I have never. NEVER. Gotten used to the cold that comes off these walls after dark.

My assigned section was the Bloody Tower. Which yeah, the name alone should have been a sign.

It was around midnight. No wind, no tourists, just my footsteps bouncing off stone. I was climbing the narrow staircase up into the tower when I stopped. Something moved in the corridor. A corridor that was supposed to be completely empty.

I clicked on my flashlight and pointed it down the hall.

Two kids. Standing in front of an old wooden door.

I opened my mouth to shout at them, figured they were trespassers, but then I heard it. This tiny, quiet sound. Almost like whispering, but so faint it was like water running down a wall. I couldn't yell. I literally couldn't.

I started walking toward them slowly. And the closer I got, the more I noticed this faint glow around them. Their clothes. Medieval. Like, full medieval.

I asked, quietly, "Are you lost?"

One of them lifted his head.

Pale face. Eyes so sad I can't describe it. He stared at my flashlight like he'd never seen light before in his life.

Then he pointed at the other boy and whispered.

"My brother... he's so cold."

I froze. Every ghost story I'd ever heard about this place hit me at once. Two princes. Locked in on a cold winter night. Never found.

I could not move.

Then the door behind them creaked open. Just a crack. And something came out of that crack, this dark shape, tall, dressed in what looked like old medieval robes. It moved toward the boys. The boys shrank back. And then it wrapped around them, like it was hiding them, covering them completely.

The second it did, they faded. Both of them. Just dissolved into light and then nothing.

I blinked. Corridor was empty. Dead silent.

I never took a shift near the Bloody Tower again.

But here's the thing tourists don't know. Visitors near that section sometimes report a cold hand grabbing them from nowhere. Or children crying when there are no children around. And among the night guards there's this unspoken rule now: never walk past the Bloody Tower alone on a full moon.

There's also this rumor that's been passed around forever. If you see the boys before the shadow covers them, and you tell them they're safe, they can finally rest. Nobody has ever actually tried it though.

So are they still there, wandering around in the dark? Or were their bodies hidden so well that even death couldn't find them?

The Tower of London isn't saying.